


Lost, but Found

by Mochas N Mayhem (KoohiiCafe)



Series: Bound in Story [14]
Category: Buffy the Vampire Slayer, Star Trek, Star Trek: The Original Series
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-27
Updated: 2015-08-27
Packaged: 2018-04-17 11:22:32
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,026
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4664700
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KoohiiCafe/pseuds/Mochas%20N%20Mayhem
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>There was something unsettling about her new apartment, and she wasn't sure what it was, couldn't put her foot exactly on it.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Lost, but Found

**Author's Note:**

> **Title:** Lost, but Found  
>  **Author:** Koohii Cafe  
>  **Rating:** General Audiences  
>  **Crossover:** BtVS/Star Trek: The Original Series  
>  **Disclaimer:** Since I am a poor chickadee with no wealth to speak of, I think it's safe to say that neither BtVS nor Star Trek: The Original Series are mine. ^^;  
>  **Written for:** [TtH](http://www.tthfanfic.org/) [August Fic A Day Challenge](http://forum.tthfanfic.org/index.php?topic=9537.0)  
>  **Summary:** _There was something unsettling about her new apartment, and she wasn't sure what it was, couldn't put her foot exactly on it._

There was something unsettling about her new apartment, and she wasn't sure what it was, couldn't put her foot exactly on it. It was a nice enough place, of course, modern, sleek, with a mix of up-to-date technology along with more old-fashioned touches here and there, since she wasn't quite fully ready for full-blown twenty-third century everything yet. Jim had found it for her, shown it to her, made sure she liked it, before she'd settled on it for good, so it wasn't that she didn't _like_ it. Winona had made sure she had a few 'touches of home' from the farmhouse as well, to make it even more homey; the old-style analog clock that hung over the old-fashioned sink was a perfect replica of the one in the farmhouse, and it was one of a few pieces like that. And the technology that _was_ in the apartment she knew how to handle, like the computer terminal, or the (grimace) sonic shower, or the replicator.

Yet, somehow, the place still seemed- alien- as night fell that first night. It seemed cold, empty, distant, and as she curled under the smooth sheets of her new bed, the sheets also a gift from Winona, the same she'd been using at the farmhouse, she wished for-

Mr. Gordo. She wished for Mr. Gordo. Never mind that he was lost forever now, left tucked into a chest in her bedroom in Sunnydale, put up and forgotten. Never mind that she hadn't held tight to the little stuffed pig in longer than she could remember, even before the Hellmouth had collapsed on her and left her stranded in the shadow desert. That she had, apparently, _outgrown_ him. Because she hadn't, she realized, she couldn't have, not when now she wanted him so badly.

For years, the little pig had kept her company when she was lonely, at the end of her rope, afraid, tired, crushed, exhausted. Ever since she was a child. But she'd forgotten him, left him behind as she was forced into her role as the Slayer, as the leader and general, as- really, ever since her world had fallen apart around her, the moment she'd been forced back into life. And now- now she realized why she felt so _off_ here.

She was alone. She'd been alone before, of course. When her mom had died, and she'd been left to care for Dawnie, to handle Glory- except her friends had been there for her, supported her. When her friends had brought her back and no one understood the torment simply living was- but then she'd had Spike, as cold a comfort as he had been, as _bad_ as they had both been for each other. When her best friend had decided to destroy the world in her sorrow, and her other best friend hadn't been able to see the necessity of Buffy's role as the Slayer there- then Giles had returned, and Xander had saved the day, and Willow had come back from the brink. When her mentor and father figure of so many years had betrayed her, pushed her to become the general and leader, even as he went behind her back to try and murder Spike- Spike had been there then, too. When her friends, when her _sister_ , had forced her from her own home- _Spike_ had been there, had come back and raised her up and mended her and held her. In the shadow desert, after Spike had burned and the Hellmouth collapsed around her- except then _Jim_ had come, had rescued her and brought her back to a new world...

She hadn't been alone since then. She'd been surrounded, by Jim, Winona, Peter, Leonard. People who cared for her, and who she cared for. But here, in this apartment, there was only Buffy.

Before the thought could fully form, could take root, there was a chirrup from the comm, and she answered it immediately, not caring who it was, or how late it was, only that she tear herself from that train of thought.

"Buffy here."

" _Buffy._ " The voice as warm, feminine and older, and a smile tugged the corners of Buffy's lips up. It was Winona, just when Buffy needed her. The eldest Kirk, the matriarch of the family, sometimes seemed to have a sixth sense for that. " _I meant to tell you before Peter and I headed out, but I forgot; I left a something for you, a surprise. You'll find it in the tote in the bedroom closet, the green one._ "

"You shouldn't have," she answered, but she was already smiling wider, already pushing her covers back to move towards the closet.

" _You might change your mind when you see what it is. It's late, though, so I'll leave you to discover that for yourself. Now you get to bed and get some rest, young lady, I'll talk to you again tomorrow. And if you need anything- comm me._ "

"Yes ma'am," Buffy chuckled, and as Winona's answering;

" _Good night. Winona out,_ " floated to her ears, she was opening the door, crouching down in front of the green tote that sat at the forefront of the closet. Peeling the lid back took only a second, and then-

It took a moment for her eyes to adjust, but there was something _pink_ inside, laying on the very top. When she realized what it was, her eyes widened, and she picked it up almost reverently, feeling the soft plush of the fabric.

He didn't look like Mr. Gordo, not exactly, but- he was still a fluffy little stuffed pig, pink and a little fuzzy and marked with hand stitches that could not have come from a replicator, and it was clear who he was _supposed_ to be. Buffy didn't remember telling the older woman about him, but- she must have, at some point. And, somehow, Winona had made a connection. And had made _him_ , just for Buffy.

Buffy settled back on the bed, holding her new Mr. Gordo- Mr. Gordo Junior, she decided- close to her chest, one hand rubbing along his plush back. She had been wrong. She _wasn't_ alone. Not at all.


End file.
